


Fever-dream

by Trojie



Series: Trojie's Pornathon Entries 2012 [5]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Desperation, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Reincarnation, Succubi & Incubi, Very Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-25
Updated: 2012-07-25
Packaged: 2017-11-10 17:00:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trojie/pseuds/Trojie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>For the Merlin Summerpornathon's fifth 2012 challenge - myths and legends</i>
</p>
<p>The joke is that Arthur was born two nights sleep under par ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fever-dream

**Author's Note:**

> Myth used is [the Lidérc](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lid%C3%A9rc)  
> Warnings: Consent is waaaay dubious. Character death in the context of reincarnation is discussed.

The joke is that Arthur was born two nights sleep under par. There are always bags under his eyes, and he never accepts invitations to go out on weekends, because he's tired. His friends tell him not to work so hard. 

Arthur is always in bed, asleep, before ten pm. Every night. 

***

When Arthur drifts into sleep, his dreams are aflame. He can feel Merlin's presence before he sees him; feel how hungry he is. He projects it, he _radiates_ it; the feeling of being starving, of being so empty it burns and gnaws away inside him. 

'Come here,' says Arthur, opening his arms, and Merlin is there. He can't control himself like this, dying of his needs, of his nature. He opens his mouth against Arthur's bare skin, sucking wet and desperate. 'Hey, hey,' Arthur murmurs, trying to soothe him, remembering long ago nights wide awake in his chambers, with Merlin frantic in his arms. 'It's okay, Merlin, don't fret, I'm here -'

Merlin turns his face up to Arthur's, eyes black from lid to lid, no gold and no blue either - everything he was subsumed between what he is now. It fits with the burning, the darkness in Merlin's eyes. He'll come back when he's had what he needs. Arthur raises his hands to Merlin's neck and brings him in to kiss him, like mouth to mouth resuscitation. He wants to bring Merlin back to life.

Before long they're on the ground, curled around each other, Merlin mouthing at the join of Arthur's thigh to his body and then at his cock, taking it in deep without preamble, without breath, and it's all Arthur can do, in the heat and the delirium he's catching off his lover, to reciprocate. 

The taste of Merlin is like a drug, honeyed and sweet and so bad for you; and like a drug it stops Arthur caring about anything but getting more of it. He drags himself down, down, further down, sucking, breathing sob-like through his nose but air is nothing compared to Merlin between his legs and in his system. 

Arthur wants to make love to Merlin. Merlin wants to devour him. Arthur hasn't had his way in three hundred years. Merlin is this way because of Arthur. 

Arthur will take what he can get, give all he can give, live this life for every hit he can handle and feed Merlin's hunger with every part of him.

His only regret, as Merlin brings him to his peak and swallows every drop, jerks out of Arthur's hold and comes across his face, braced over his body, all lean, gleaming muscle and bone, the god of - no, the demon of sex - his only regret, Arthur's only regret, is that this is only a dream

***

'We can't keep on like this,' says Merlin, when he comes back to himself and the black recedes to gold recedes to blue in his eyes. 'It isn't safe.'

He says this every time. 'I need to find someone else,' he says, pleading. 'Let me find someone else, just for a while.'

Arthur shakes his head, keeps holding Merlin by his hips because he can't bear to let go. 

'Please, Arthur. I don't want to kill you,' Merlin whispers. 'Not again.'


End file.
